


Strip That Down

by Domeaspreadsheet



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs in a Car, M/M, Matchmaking, Nipple Piercings, Stripping, is that seriously not a tag???, oh okay well that's a lame way of phrasing it, ot4 are strippers, roadhead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 07:26:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13208859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domeaspreadsheet/pseuds/Domeaspreadsheet
Summary: “Does this have something to do with Louis being into nipple piercings?”Liam feels his mouth drop open, and snaps it shut quickly. “No. Why on earth would you think that?”“Maybe because Louis told me he told you he thinks it’s hot on guys, and now you’ve convinced Harry to do it, three minutes after Louis walks out the door.”“Well. When you put it that way.” Liam sighs. “Fine. I think they should be together. Thought this might help.”Niall smacks him on the shoulder. “Why didn’t you say something? I’ve been hoping those two would get it together foryears.”-Four strippers. Possible fun. A New Year’s Eve matchmaking plot. Will it work?





	Strip That Down

**Author's Note:**

> This work is an alternating Liam and Louis POV, which was hella fun to write. 
> 
> We all know good and damn well what the title is from. 
> 
> Playlist is [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/amandaleeann/playlist/1T7uxi3cLh2q1L0G992KrG).

**December 16**

 

“Niall, I swear to Christ if I hear you say the word ‘Kardashian’ again I am leaving and never coming back,” Louis yells across the yard where he’s doing squats with a resistance band around his thighs. His shirt is glued to his chest with sweat, but his breath is making little puffs on every exhale in the December air. 

 

“Not my fault they have the best asses in the game, Tommo! You don’t get bodies like that playing Wii Sports Resort. I need more from everyone, let’s go!” Niall shouts.

 

Easy for him to say, Louis thinks, given he’s not actually  _ doing _ anything other than standing in the middle of the yard, a whistle around his neck for the  _ aesthetic _ , as he claims. So what if he had injured his knee last week in a pickup soccer game?

 

Three times a week Niall forces the four of them into their small backyard for “Horan’s Get-an-Ass-on-You-Like-a-Kardashian Bootcamp Experience.” The other three refer to it as “Hellcamp.” Mostly in whispers and behind his back, but they’ve seen Niall’s narrowed eyes - he’s probably onto them. 

 

“Khloe’s workout posts are actually super motivating, Louis. Even though I want to keel over right here.” Liam tells him, panting slightly. “Niall’s not that far off the mark.” 

 

Before Louis can summon a retort from within his burning lungs, Harry drops the jump rope he had been using and strides toward Niall, picking the stunned brunette up and carrying him toward the fence. He sets him down right outside the gate, and latches it from the inside before Niall can react. 

 

Louis scrambles out of the resistance band, sprinting for the house to lock the front door. This isn’t the first time they’ve tag-teamed getting out of a workout. Deed done, he emerges back into the yard, giving Harry a thumbs up, and Harry grins at him. 

 

“Harry, what the FUCK,” Niall yells. “Is this why you two  _ insisted _ we rent the house with the tall fence? So you could pull shit like this?”

 

“Now, Neil -” Louis starts. 

 

“Don’t CALL ME THAT!” 

 

Niall falls silent, and they wait patiently. 

 

A minute later, a “Tommo locked the front door, didn’t he?” comes from the other side of the gate.

 

“Now, Neil, I know you were looking forward to us collapsing in our own backyard, but Harold came to our rescue, and far be it from me to let his good deed be ruined by a mere lock. We’re all going to do ten more squats, drink some water, and then we’ll let you back in. Throw the whistle over the gate.”

 

“No.”

 

Liam chimes in, gasping out, “I haven’t quit yet, Niall! Don’t be mad at me!”

 

Louis looks over at Harry, who’s already smirking at him.  Without exchanging a word, they sprint to the back door before Liam has a chance to get up from the plank he’s been in for god knows how long. Harry locks the back door, Louis double checks the front door, and they both collapse on the kitchen floor, just as Liam starts banging on the kitchen window.

 

Harry looks at Louis and asks, “Are you really going to make me do 10 more squats?”

 

“Fuck no, I won’t tell if you don’t.”

 

“Maybe locking them out will be enough of a distract-”

 

Harry’s interrupted by a crash from the living room, followed by a shrill whistle less than a foot from their ears. Louis shrieks and looks over his shoulder to see a very smug Niall, with Liam standing right behind him.

 

“Now that I have your attention, please see yourselves back outside for the conclusion of today’s  _ Hellcamp _ .”

 

Louis opens his mouth, but Niall cuts him off. “Oh for Christ’s sake, you think we don’t know how to get back in this house when you take it upon yourself to be a pain in the ass? You locked us out four times the first week we lived here. You need a new tactic. Get up, let’s go!”

 

A full half hour of agony for Harry and Louis later - Liam and Niall took turns blowing the whistle at them at every possible opportunity - the four of them re-enter the house. Louis lays down on the floor the second his toes cross the threshold. Harry trips over him, landing half on top of him. 

 

“Neil, that many burpees was just cruel, I’m never going to be able to get off this floor,” groans Louis.

 

“Ever heard of karma, Lewis?”

 

“ _ Harold _ is the one you should be mad at,  _ Neil _ , he’s the one who locked you out!”

 

“We all know young Harold only learned how to be a menace thanks to you.”

 

“He’s right you know,” sniffs Harry from on top of Louis. “I was a good kid until I met you. A cherub. A joy. Now I’m a stripper. I can’t go home, my mom can’t stand to look at me. I’m a walking tragedy, but now without the walking. Niall destroyed that last shred of dignity.”

 

“Harry, your mom dropped off a pie two days ago  _ and _ fixed the hole in your gold lamé pants, I think she’s fine.”

 

“Excuse me, Liam.” 

 

Before Liam can respond, Louis shoves Harry off of him. “I can’t breathe you oaf. Your mom really will disown you if you kill me, you know I’m her favorite.”

 

“Heyyyyyy.”

 

“This could go on all day and some of you have a bachelor party tonight. Louis, if you can get up, I’ll let you shower first because I’m nothing if not a benevolent bootcamp coach and friend - ”

 

“Heyyyyyy,” interrupts Harry, again.

 

“ - and Harry  _ is  _ the one who started it,” Niall finishes.

 

Harry glares, and Louis heaves himself to his feet, heading down the hallway to start the tedious process of grooming for work.  “You lot better hope I leave some hot water!”

 

-

 

Two years ago, Niall accidentally turned the four of them into strippers. Six months out of college, they were all working mediocre jobs that paid next to nothing, living together out of friendship but also for the cheaper rent. Niall came home one day with four pairs of tiny black underwear and promised them $75 each for an hour of their Friday night. A friend of his was Maid of Honor in a wedding, the agency she had hired for strippers at the bachelorette party had double-booked, and Niall was there to save the day. They were all in good shape, had all drunkenly watched  _ Magic Mike _ together one night, and there was probably some coconut oil for shine in the kitchen. How hard could it be?

 

The night ended with a sprained ankle for Liam, a minor forehead cut for a poor girl who got too close to Louis’ enthusiastic belt swinging, and Niall being pantsed “accidentally” by his friend (they’re all pretty sure Harry bribed her). So. It was pretty fucking hard.

 

Despite the...difficulties...of that first job, it was more fun than anything they’d done since graduating, and more money in an hour than they were making in a day. 

 

No one, performer or audience, has been injured in over a year, so things are going pretty well. 

 

(They did have to get their moms to stop telling their friends what they do after one tried to book them for the bachelorette party before her second marriage. Sally had been disappointed yet understanding when they all had the flu. In July.)

 

Now, they run a fairly tight ship. Niall handles the majority of inquiries and bookings, and every job is entered into a master google calendar they all have access to. They each have personal calendars that are populated with their specific jobs, along with any special instructions for props, costumes, or song requests. Contracts are signed acknowledging that they will not tolerate requests for private rooms or “special treatment.” If someone does ask, they leave immediately, and they never work alone. 

 

Their hall closet is now stocked with costumes and props, and one of the two full bathrooms in their house is the designated grooming bathroom - it has the best lighting and a double sink. 

 

They quickly learned that grooming for work is easier in pairs than as a solo endeavor, and if it was weird at first it's not anymore. You see your friends’ junk enough times and it ceases to be weird. Like exposure therapy. 

 

“Liam!” he hears Louis call his name from the bathroom. “Can you come see if my tanner looks patchy? Harry’s still in the shower and Niall doesn't know what to look for ‘cause he's so pale.” 

 

“Just a second!” he yells back. He finishes pairing up his socks, puts them in the drawer, and then heads toward the bathroom.  

 

“Any places it  _ s _ houldn't be?” he asks as he picks up the tube from where it's sitting on the counter, eyes scanning Louis’ back for streaks. 

 

“My dick, but otherwise no, noticed it was fading and want to stay on top of it.” 

 

As he speaks, he pulls his tiny black briefs down under the curve of his ass, so Liam can fully assess the situation. 

 

“Looks a little spotty on the left cheek, be still.” 

 

Harry chooses this moment to be done with his shower, stepping out and wrapping a towel low around his waist. 

 

Liam looks over to comment on how if he'd been any slower he wouldn't make their job tonight, but stops when he sees Harry's face. 

 

Harry's eyes are narrowed at the exact spot where Liam has his hand on Louis’ ass, rubbing in the lotion, wearing an expression Liam hasn't seen on him before.  _ Anger? Jealousy? Does he have to fart, maybe?  _

 

Before Liam can say anything, Harry snaps his eyes away, shaking his head and reaching for a second towel to run over his shoulder-length curls. 

 

Louis picks then to look up from his phone, oblivious to Harry’s reaction. “Jesus, Harry, if you'd been in there any longer we'd have shown up tonight as two strippers and a human sized prune. A prune that smells good, sure, but still a prune.”  

 

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes, stepping up to the sink beside Louis. 

 

“Sure. Like anyone would turn this away at the door,” he says while stretching his arms overhead and turning, making his torso and back flex, tattoos and muscles highlighted by the few water droplets still clinging to his body. 

 

Liam looks up from where he's working tanner into a spot on Louis’ arm to interject before the sparring starts, and sees Louis with his mouth slightly open, but with no snark coming out of it.  _ What the fuck?  _

 

Niall appears at the door. “You boys gonna be ready in time? Probably need to leave within the hour, bit of a drive. Payno, thanks for covering for me tonight, my knee just isn't up to the choreography yet.” 

 

Niall runs them through what they're booked for while Louis works wax into his hair, Harry shaves his face, and Liam gets his turn in the shower. 

 

It’s a fairly large joint bachelor party, about 30 guys, for James and Tom who are getting married next weekend. Fairly standard, no costumes required. Just cute men, tight clothes that come off eventually, some music. The party is being held in a suite of one of the swankier hotels downtown. They have the elevator code to get up and the DJ is set to start their music when they show up. 

 

“Liam, it’s really unfair that you’ve got the whole ‘sexy lumberjack’ look going on and that it only takes you, like, 12 minutes to get ready,” Harry says, bent over the counter to get closer to the mirror, tweezing a stray brow. 

 

Liam reaches his arm out of the shower to grab a towel. “Well, you could not shave. You’ve got a bit of stubble going on now, which is nice.”

 

“But I  _ choose _ to shave, Liam. S’patchy,” Harry pouts.  

 

Louis spins away from the sink, hair now finished, bangs pushed to the side and artfully feathered. “Leemo, the lumberjack look works for you, good job. Harry, the tattooed baby giraffe look works for you, well done. I’m hotter than both of you put together, so let’s get this show on the road and give the people what they really want: Tommo the Tease.”

 

“Louis, how many times have I told you, you can’t just  _ make up _ your own stripper name,” Liam says, groaning.  _ Honestly _ . They have this discussion at least once a week. At this point, he  _ knows _ Louis does it on purpose. 

 

“Sure I can, Leeyum,” Louis sing-songs. 

 

Niall pops back into the doorway. “Are you lot ready yet? You need to move. Also, Harry gave him that name one night when we were all hammered and you’d already passed out, so he can keep it. I know you both know this. Tear-away pants and v-necks on gentleman, you’ve got to go.”

 

-

 

Lady Gaga’s  _ Boys Boys Boys _ is blaring through the speakers of the hotel suite, the party in full swing. 

 

Louis is flirting with a few dudes in the corner. Liam is doing some sort of...Liam dance moves - exaggerated hand movements, body rolls, it’s like his hips don’t know how to not move - for a small crowd that cheers every time he swivels and pops his hips. Harry is in Tom’s lap doing more giggling than grinding while his soon-to-be-husband James sticks a couple of dollars in the waistband of Harry’s hot pink briefs. 

 

The music changes to Phantogram’s  _ Calling All _ . Harry loses it for this song, immediately turning into a man possessed. He moves to James’ lap, giggling no longer. 

 

Louis had just gotten a bottle of water when the song switched over, and he’s made no move to drink it, clutching it tightly. He doesn't notice Liam approach, his eyes glued to where Harry is in James’ lap, eyes closed and head thrown back as he moves to the beat. 

 

“Louis,” Liam says, voice slightly raised to be heard over the music. 

 

“Yeah?” Louis replies, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Harry. 

 

“You okay, man? You look a little intense.”

 

Louis shakes himself out of whatever trance he’s in, and he turns toward Liam.

 

“What? M’fine, James is fine! Are you fine? Why do you need me?” This all comes out in a rush, his voice a little higher than normal, but he doesn’t know how to reign it in. He’s having a hard time maintaining eye contact, because he keeps glancing over at Harry. Who picks this moment to turn his head and...did he just... _ wink _ ? 

 

Fortunately, Louis is saved by a guest approaching Liam, holding out a beer to him.

 

“Hi, m’Nick. You look like you might’ve done a sit-up or two,” he says, his lip turned up in a smirk.

 

Liam’s face crinkles into what Louis once described as a ‘happy bear cub face’ and he says, “More planks than sit-ups, I find them more effective and easier on my lower back, but thank you, Nick! And I really appreciate the beer, but we don’t drink at work, I hope you understand.” 

 

Liam pats him on the shoulder, and Nick shrugs. “Guess I’ve got two drinks now! Worse things have happened.”

 

The song ends and Harry climbs off James’ lap, putting one arm in the air and the other on his hip, dimples popping out along with his hip. The crowd, well on their way to drunk, cheers, and Harry takes a bow before making his way over to Louis and Liam. 

 

He crowds into Liam’s space and glances at Nick. “I’m over here actually  _ working _ and the two of you are holding court having drinks delivered? It’s not fairrrrr,” he whines, as he slides his chin down the side of Liam’s torso so he’s tucked into his side, back arched exaggeratedly, hip popped for all it’s worth. 

 

Harry is always charming, but Harry at work is on another level. He’s cute, he’s engaged, he knows how to work a crowd, and has managed to create almost an entirely new persona in a way the rest of them have never been able to compete with. 

 

“Harry,” Louis starts in a semi-annoyed tone. “Do we need to find you a place to lay down since you seem to be unable to stand?” 

 

“Why would I do that when Liam here is more than capable of doing that for me?” He looks Nick in the eye, winks, and drags a pointer finger down Liam’s abs, making him giggle. 

 

Unfortunately the giggle throws Harry off balance and he’s forced to dislodge himself from Liam, so he relocates to Louis’ side, arm slung around his shoulders. “Jealous, Lou?”

 

“No,” Louis snaps, a little too quickly. “But we’re not here to be on each other. Nick, take Liam here and let him talk your ear off about the merits of planks over sit-ups or protein powders or something.” He shrugs a shoulder, nudging Harry loose. “Harry, I’ll cover the couches for a while if you want to go mingle with that dimple of yours.” 

 

“Fine,” Harry sighs, bumping his hip into Louis’. “I know you’re only offering because we split tips equally between us and I always earn more, but I’ll accept my fate.” 

 

“You’re an idiot, get back out there,” Louis says, rolling his eyes, and he shoos Harry away.

 

Louis stares at Harry’s back as he weaves and prances through the crowd, before turning back to Liam and Nick. “Do you have another preferred abdominal workout? I’d love to hear about it,” he hears Nick ask as they walk off.

 

Louis shakes his head before scanning the room for his next place to sit. He spots a tall blonde guy with some scruff perched on a bench along the wall, whiskey in hand, and heads his way. 

 

Chad is perfectly lovely and when he asks for his number, Louis leans closer so Chad can hear him rattle it off. He doesn’t do this often, but it’s been a while since he’s been on a date. Chad’s cute. He can’t help that his name is Chad.

 

The music segues to their second to last song, Steve Aoki’s  _ Ladi Dadi _ .

 

Louis excuses himself to check in with Aaron, the best man who had booked them for the night, to make sure everything is in order before they go.

 

Harry and Liam make their way toward the center of the room, Louis joining them just in time for the opening notes of *NSYNC’s  _ Bye Bye Bye _ . 

 

Early on, they decided they needed a gimmick. So they learned all the performance choreography, spending two solid days in front of a laptop, living room furniture pushed to the side, various videos on repeat, while they worked it out. 

 

It’s always a huge hit. Their current crowd shouts, and a few of them even jump in, drunk enough to not care. Clearly they’re not the only ones who have spent a fair amount of time watching boyband videos. 

 

Liam takes the front, thriving on the attention that his hip swivels get from the crowd. When he gets drunk he likes to say that they should have been a boyband, forgetting that he’s the only one who’s really good at dancing. Harry trips over his own feet every other movement, and Louis has been known to make up his own choreography from time to time, but Liam never sees it from the front, and assumes they’re all as good as him. 

 

The song ends and Harry delivers their parting spiel. “Thank you for having us, congratulations to James and Tom, you’ve all been incredible, and we hope you keep this party rolling safely! G’night!”

 

They make a stop at the bathroom to put their clothes back on before they leave, and Harry makes them detour to the late night donut place on the way home, claiming he needs to carb load after the workout Niall had put them through  _ and _ work. 

 

Liam starts explaining that that’s not  _ quite _ how that concept works, a speech the boys hear after nearly every job, so Louis cuts him off. “Oi, Payno, we  _ know _ , just tell us what kind of donut you want so we can go home, okay?”

 

Harry is driving, so he’s in charge of ordering. Until he takes too long to make a decision, forcing Louis to lean over his lap from the passenger side to order one of each so they can get the fuck home already. 

 

**December 19**

 

Liam and Louis are sitting in the living room, television muted on ESPN highlights. 

 

“Hey, Lou, can I borrow your laptop? We need to find some more songs for work, and mine is being wonky.”

 

“Yeah, sure. I think I left it on my bed, just grab it.”

 

“Thanks, man.”

 

Louis gets off the couch to get some water and maybe a snack, Liam heading down the hallway to find Louis’ computer. 

 

“Hey, Li, you want a beer or anything?” he shouts from the kitchen, after rummaging in the fridge for a minute, not finding anything he deems snack worthy.  

 

Silence. Louis pops his head back in the living room, and sees Liam staring at the laptop screen, frozen. 

 

“Li,” Louis says and Liam’s head snaps up. “Why’re you being weird, man?”

 

Liam turns the laptop so Louis can see the screen. Oh. That. Fuck.

 

“Louis...did you do a google search for dudes with nipple piercings? No need to be embarrassed! Just didn’t know you were thinking about getting it done.”

 

“Ehm, I’m not sure I’m... _ considering _ ...it, exactly, I just,” Louis breaks off to drag his hands over his face. “I kind of maybe just think it’s hot,” he mumbles quickly from underneath his fingers. 

 

“Oh! Nothing wrong with that! I’d like to hook up with someone with a Prince Albert or something someday, bet that’d be hot. Hey, do you think maybe Chad has his nipples pierced? How cool would that be!”

 

Louis is just going to lay down on this floor and die of embarrassment. That will put an end to his misery. He will never find out if Chad has his nipples pierced but that’s  _ fine _ , he’s willing to make that sacrifice. Before he can muster a response to Liam, the front door opens and Harry walks in, fresh from Tuesday night yoga. His hair is in a sloppy bun, and he’s wearing yoga tights, a black zip up hoodie, and a gray muscle tank. 

 

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Harry asks, hanging his keys on the hooks by the door and putting his gym bag down. 

 

“Hey, Harry,” Liam starts. “Would you ever get your nipples pierced?” 

 

Louis is going to kill him, what the  _ fuck _ .  

 

Harry doesn’t miss a beat, just says, “Yeah, bet that’d be sick. You getting it done Liam?’

 

Louis squawks, still standing in the doorway. “Oi, Harry, don’t give him any ideas!”

 

Harry looks at him, clearly confused. 

 

“Ignore him,” Liam says. “He’s just worried he’ll be attracted to me or something stupid, he thinks it’s hot when dudes have their nipples pierced. Look!” 

 

Liam turns the laptop so Harry can see, Harry leaning in to look at the search results still displayed on the page. 

 

“If Louis is lucky, maybe Chad has his done!” Liam says.

 

“Who the hell is Chad?” Harry asks, looking back at Louis, who is now laying on the floor, arm thrown over his face. 

 

“I hate you both,” he mumbles.

 

“Chad is the guy he met at Saturday’s gig, they’re going out Friday,” Liam supplies, helpfully. 

 

“Oh. I didn’t know you met someone, Lou,” Harry says, and is Louis imagining a slightly clipped tone?

 

Louis sits up. “Yeah, maybe? It was nice sitting on him, at least, and he’s cute.” He shrugs. “Might as well use this job to my advantage every once in awhile, right?” 

 

“Right. Well. I’m going to get these sweaty tights off and shower, I’ll see you guys later. Yell at me if you watch a movie.” Harry picks up his gym bag and walks down the hall, door closing to the bathroom a few seconds later. 

 

“Maybe we should all go get our nipples pierced. D’you think Niall would go for it? I bet he would if we got him drunk enough,” Liam muses. 

 

“Li, we’re not making nipple piercing a group activity,” Louis groans. “Will you just, close that search and let’s pretend this conversation didn’t happen? S’weird.” 

 

“Louis, you shouldn’t be ashamed about being attracted to this! I think it looks really good on some people!”

 

“I’m not ashamed! I’m not! But this has been an all-around weird conversation and I’m ready to be done with it, if that’s okay with you, Sir Nosy.”

 

“Did you think Harry was a little off there at the end?” Liam asks. 

 

“And whose fault was that, Liam?” Louis asks in a high-pitched voice. 

 

Liam looks at him blankly. 

 

“Nevermind. Let’s just pick a movie before Harry gets back out here and makes us watch  _ The Notebook _ again for the third time this month.”

 

They watch  _ The Noteboo _ k for the third time that month. 

 

**December 22**

 

Liam is on the couch, scrolling through his Instagram feed, watching Louis pace next to the front door in his peripheral vision. 

 

“Louis.”

 

He doesn’t acknowledge him, just keeps pacing. 

 

“Louis!” he tries, louder this time.

 

That gets his attention and he stops momentarily to snap, “What, Liam? Jesus, you startled me.”

 

“You’re gonna wear a hole in the rug. He’s what, two minutes late? Sit down.”

 

Instead of sitting down Louis asks, “Should I change? I should change,” he decides, without waiting for an answer, and tries to walk down the hallway back to his room. 

 

Liam gets off the couch to grab him by the elbow. “Louis. You’re wearing your tightest jeans, and you know what that shirt does for your collarbones. I promise, you look good.” 

 

Louis sighs. “Okay, yeah. I need to calm down. It’ll be fine, probably? S’just been a while since I’ve been on a date, kinda nervous.” 

 

“What are you nervous about?” Harry asks, walking into the living room.

 

“Oh, ehm, Chad,” Louis stammers, “is supposed to be picking me up for a date, but he’s a few minutes late and I’m wondering if I should change.”

 

Harry gives him a onceover. “You look good, Lou, but he sounds like kind of a dick. It’s rude to be late.”

 

Before Louis can respond, they hear the honk of a car horn outside. 

 

“Oh, real classy. Can’t even come to the door?” Harry sneers. 

 

“Harry, I’m an adult, I don’t need fetched from the door, it’s fine,” Louis says, rolling his eyes while shrugging on a long sleeve flannel. “Also, uhhh,” he adds, grabbing his keys from the hook by the door. “I don’t  _ expect _ anything to happen, but maybe make yourselves scarce if I bring him back? Thanks!” 

 

“Have fun, you deserve it,” Liam says, motioning him out the door. 

 

The door has barely closed when Harry starts grumbling. 

 

“ _ Chad _ , very manly,” Harry mutters sarcastically, and Liam turns around to stare at him. 

 

“What was that?” Liam asks. 

 

“I bet he does something manly for work,” Harry continues, pretending he hadn’t heard Liam. 

 

“Harry,” Liam says. 

 

Harry rolls his eyes. 

 

“I hope this doesn’t come as a shock, but I  _ think _ Louis has been on dates before,” he feels compelled to point out. 

 

“Yeah, but,” Harry adopts an extremely sarcastic tone. “ _ Chad _ ? Let’s give it  _ up _ for  _ Chad _ . He picked up a stripper at a bachelor party, what a  _ great _ story to tell all his  _ bros _ .”

 

Liam starts laughing midway through the sentence, and is doubled over by the time Harry stops talking. “You’re so obvious when you’re jealous, god,” he says, pointing at Harry. 

 

Harry crosses his arms over his chest. “M’not jealous,” he insists. 

 

He stands up and lets his hand fall. “You  _ are _ , I’m surprised you didn’t pee on him a little to mark your territory before he left!”

 

Harry opens his mouth, then abruptly snaps it shut. He huffs out a breath, spins on his heel, and stalks down the hallway toward his room. 

 

“Chad is a name that loses all meaning if you say it enough!” he throws over his shoulder. 

 

Liam watches him retreat and decides to follow him. Nothing this entertaining was happening on his social media feeds. He gets a shoulder in between the door and the frame before Harry can close it. “Harry,” he starts, carefully. “Have you even seen this guy?” 

 

“All Chads are douche bros, Liam. You know that,” Harry informs him, back turned, folding a t-shirt he aimlessly picks up off the bed. 

 

“I don’t think that’s a thing, actually. And you didn’t answer my question.”

 

“It  _ is _ ,” Harry insists, turning to face Liam, throwing his arms up in the air. “And no, I haven’t seen him. But I bet he looks like a douche.”

 

“How many Chads have you met to have such a low opinion of them?” Liam asks, brow raised in Harry’s direction. 

 

Harry mumbles something unintelligible. 

 

“Sorry, how many?” Liam has to actively fight a smirk. 

 

“None,” Harry grits out. 

 

“Harry,” Liam tries. “Do you think you might be...overreacting?”

 

“No,” Harry snaps. “Louis is my friend,  _ your _ friend, can’t believe you’re okay with him going out with a dickhead!” 

 

Liam throws his arms up. “We don’t  _ know _ he’s a dickhead! You just decided that!”

 

“Well...the Internet. And jokes,” Harry tries, lamely. 

 

“Is there anything you maybe want to talk about?” Liam asks, gently. 

 

“No. I’ll try to give  _ Chad _ a chance.” Liam opens his mouth to thank him, but Harry rushes out a muttered, “I bet he turns out to be a dick, though.”

 

Liam shakes his head. “Okay. I’ll leave you to your,” he gestures vaguely, “your folding or whatever. Let me know if you want to play a video game or something later.” 

 

“Thanks, Li.”

 

Liam closes Harry’s door behind him, shaking his head. What the _fuck_ was going on? He honestly doesn’t know if he hopes Louis’ date goes well or not. He’s not sure he wants to see what roommate dinners plus Chad look like. 

 

-

 

Louis closes the door behind him quietly, unsure if the house is asleep yet or not, given that it’s after one in the morning. He’s alone. 

 

Chad was...fine. Louis’d had what he would describe as a nice time. But that was about it. He heads into the kitchen for a glass of water before crashing and finds Harry propped against the counter eating a granola bar. 

 

“Hey,” he says, grabbing a glass out of the cabinet. 

“How was your date?” Harry asks through a mouthful of granola. 

 

“It was fine, I guess, as far as dates with someone named Chad could be expected to go,” he answers. He turns on the tap, barely catching Harry’s soft mumble of “I knew it.” 

 

Glass full, he shuts the faucet off and asks, “Did you say something?”

 

“No, just. Sorry it wasn’t great. You deserve someone who is worthy of you, you know?”

 

“Eh, is sitting on someone really the basis for a lasting relationship anyway? Doubtful.”

 

Harry chuckles. “Probably not. Being friends for six years and having a similar career path, on the other hand,” he trails off, smirking. 

 

“Oh shut up, that’s too easy of a jab, even for you. Anyway, I’m going to bed. Have to get up early to pack. See you in the morning?” 

 

“Yeah. Night, Lou.” 

 

“Night, Harry.”

 

Louis walks out, missing Harry’s small smile. 

 

**December 23**

 

“Harry, we’re not watching this movie again,” Liam says, sternly. 

 

“I just don’t think you understand what  _ 13 Going on 30  _ is really  _ about _ , Liam, that’s why you don’t like it,” Harry defiantly responds. 

 

“I’ve seen this movie at  _ least _ seven times, I think I know what it’s about!” Liam exclaims. 

 

They’re sitting in the living room Saturday morning, Harry making a case for why they should definitely be watching  _ 13 Going on 30 _ . His argument is that it’s airing on TBS and that should be reason enough. 

 

Niall is watching their debate intently from where he’s sprawled out on the floor on his back, head propped up on a throw pillow. 

 

Before Harry can reply, he hears a ruckus coming down the hallway and turns to see Louis dragging a duffel bag, zippers looking like they’re going to burst at the seams, a sock peeking out of an end pocket. 

 

“Are you moving out and forgot to tell the rest of us?” Niall asks him, sitting up. 

 

“Oi! I’m gonna be gone until the new year, this isn’t that much stuff,” Louis protests. “Your families are all local, so I don’t want to hear anything about packing.”

 

“Did you say you’re packing, Lou?” Harry asks, smirking.  

 

Louis rolls his eyes. “Harold, never change.” He rubs his hands together. “Alright, boys. When I come back I’m going to be another year older and wiser than all of you, so please refrain from making poor decisions while I’m gone that I will have to berate you for when I get home -” 

 

Liam, Harry, and Niall all converge on him in a group hug, cutting off the end of his sentence. 

 

“We love you, Lou, don’t miss us too much,” Niall says, voice slightly muffled where his face is pressed into Louis’ shoulder. 

 

“Tell your family we all say hello, and FaceTime us at least once, I want to see those babies!” Harry demands. 

 

Liam claps him on the back. “Happy early birthday and merry Christmas, man. We’ll celebrate when you get back.”

 

“Alright, alright, that’s enough sap, get off me!” 

 

The huddle disperses, Liam moving back to the couch. He hears Harry offer a “Drive safely, Lou,” and Louis promises that he will. 

 

“Bye, everyone! See you in the New Year!” 

 

They all wave, and Louis closes the door behind him. 

 

Liam realizes they never changed what was playing on the television. He has an idea. 

 

“Harry.”

 

“Yeah?” 

 

Niall has settled into an armchair, and Harry is on floor doing what Liam assumes are yoga poses.

 

“We can watch this movie -” Harry’s face lights up. “If you make a bet with me.”

 

“What’s the bet?” Harry asks, warily. 

 

“If you can’t get through the Thriller scene without dancing  _ or  _ quoting any line of dialogue, you get your nipples pierced.”

 

“That’s it?” Harry asks. 

 

“What do you mean ‘ _ that’s it _ ’?!” screeches Niall, pitching his body forward in the chair. “That’s like, something you should really think about, probably!”

 

Harry ignores Niall and shrugs. “Yeah, okay.”

 

“ _ Okay _ ?! Just like that, you’re going to say ‘ _ okay _ ’?” 

 

“Niall, it’s fine. No one’s asking you to get it done, too.” Harry says. “I think you should, though. It would look good on you.” 

 

Liam is stunned this has been so easy. “Harry, you haven’t even lost yet,” he feels the need to point out. 

 

“Eh, doesn’t matter, I’m in. Does anyone at Anton’s shop do piercings? Are they open today? It’s kind of close to Christmas,” Harry muses. 

 

“I can text him and ask,” Liam offers, weakly.

 

The first notes of  _ Thriller _ filter through the speakers and Harry jumps up. “Great! Oh, this is my cue!” 

 

Liam watches Harry dance  _ and _ recite all of the dialogue, a smile on his face the whole time. Niall shakes his head, then stands up and walks toward the kitchen, turning around to motion at Liam to follow him, Harry oblivious. 

 

The second they’re across the threshold, Niall turns on him. “What are you up to, Payno?”

 

“Uh, nothing?” Liam tries. 

 

Niall narrows his eyes. 

 

“Um, well. Would you take nothing?”

 

“Nope,” Niall says, popping the p dramatically. “Does this have something to do with Louis being into nipple piercings?”

 

Liam feels his mouth drop open, and snaps it shut quickly. “No. Why on earth would you think that?” 

 

“Maybe because Louis told me he told you he thinks it’s hot on guys, and now you’ve convinced Harry to do it, three minutes after Louis walks out the door.”

 

“Well. When you put it that way.” Liam sighs. “Fine. I think they should be together. Thought this might help.”

 

Niall smacks him on the shoulder. “Why didn’t you say something? I’ve been hoping those two would get it together for  _ years _ .”

 

A laugh escapes before he can stop it, and Harry’s head pops through the doorway. 

 

“What are you two doing in here? You’re missing the movie!”

 

“Harry, we’ve  _ seen _ the movie,” Niall says.

 

“Suit yourselves. It’s a good movie,” he mutters to himself, returning to the living room. 

 

“So what’s the plan here? Harry takes his shirt off, Louis jumps him, they live happily ever after?” 

 

Liam throws his hands up. “Maybe? You know how stubborn they can both be, I’m worried I can only get them so far. But Louis has been acting kind of weird lately, I’ve caught him staring at Harry a few times. He’s not as subtle as he thinks he is.”

 

“Neither one of them would know subtle if it ran them over in a truck. Repeatedly,” Niall says, dryly.

 

“You’re not wrong. You should have heard Harry going on about Chad last night. You’d think the guy kicked puppies the way he was acting.” 

 

“Dude, I know. He was going on about it to me earlier in the week and they hadn’t even gone out yet.”

 

Liam shakes his head. “Do you think we have a chance?”

 

“As good of a chance as we can have trying to get two stubborn and in-denial men to get their shit together, I guess. You gonna text Anton?”

 

“Yeah, good call.” He pulls out his phone. “Hey, Harry!” he shouts. “When do you want to see Anton?”

 

Harry reappears in the doorway. “I don’t know, today? Might get smushed in Christmas hugs but,” he shrugs. “Oh well. We don’t have another job until New Year’s Eve right?”

 

“Right,” Niall answers. He looks a little pale. “H, are you sure about this?”

 

“Yeah, they look sick. How bad could it be?”

 

Liam looks up from his phone. “Well, Anton can get you in at four today and he said to eat before you show up, so I guess you’re going to find out.”

 

-

 

“Hand behind your back,” Anton says. “Deep breath in, breathe out slowly through your nose.”

 

“Shit fucking mother _ fuck _ ,” Harry hisses, gripping Liam’s hand. 

 

Anton slides the second barbell through, twists the end on, and pulls off his gloves. “All set, man. You okay?”

 

Harry lets out a slow breath. “Yeah, wasn’t too bad. Second one is worse, you know what’s coming.” He lets go of Liam’s hand. “Thanks, Li. Hope I didn’t squeeze too hard.”

 

Liam flexes his fingers and winces, his knuckles cracking now that they can finally move freely again. “Nah, you’re good.”

 

“Alright, who’s next?” Anton asks. “Niall? An industrial would look really cool on you.”

 

Niall is standing in a corner, back turned, intently examining the flash tattoos covering the walls, resolutely not looking at any needles. “Nope, I’m just fine!” he replies quickly and a little high pitched, not turning around. 

 

“Niall, there’s no blood, everything is put away, you can turn around, man,” Liam tells him. 

 

He turns, still looking pale, but relaxes a little when he sees Liam is telling the truth.

 

“Well, Liam, how about you? Maybe a Prince Albert?” Anton asks, smirking. 

 

Liam feels his cheeks flush and tips of his ears turn red, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. “Um, I’m, not,” he stammers. “Probably not today!” he finally spits out. 

 

Anton laughs. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out. They can be fun, though,” he adds with a wink. A  _ wink _ . 

 

“Oh, um, yeah, I’d like, one day, to try!” He needs to get it  _ together _ . 

 

“What kind of, um, fun?” Harry asks him, shooting Liam a smirk. And, of course. Why did Liam think he might be coming to his rescue?

 

“Well that’s for me to know and Liam to maybe find out if he agrees to dinner with me,” Anton says, looking at Liam.

 

Niall squawks. “Oh my god. If you ever want to make some extra money, come work with us. That was far smoother than anything I’ve ever heard from this crew.”

 

“Liam,” Harry says, turning toward him. “The man asked you out, and you’re being rude by not giving him a response. Are you going to say yes to dinner and possibly fun?” 

 

Honestly? Fuck everyone he’s friends with. Thank god Louis isn’t here too. 

 

“Oh! Niall!” Harry shoves a hand into his pocket, trying to pull out his phone. “Take my picture, send it to the group chat. Louis is going to be  _ pissed _ he missed this.” 

 

“Uhhhhh,” Niall stammers, shooting Liam a desperate look. Does he have to fix  _ everything _ ?

 

Liam rolls his eyes and blows out a quick breath. “Harry, no. They’re kind of swollen and gross right now. Louis doesn’t wanna see that, probably.” Harry sticks his lower lip out in a pout. “Also, if the offer still stands, Anton, I’m saying yes to dinner. And possibly fun.”

 

Anton grins at him. “Great. I’ve got a few more clients today, but I’ll text you when I can.” He turns his attention back to Harry. “As for you. Keep them clean, don’t hug anyone too hard at Christmas, and don’t let anyone lick them - or anything else for that matter - for two months, minimum. And if you have any questions after you leave, get my number from Liam.” 

 

Harry reaches out to shake his hand. “Thanks, man. They look really good. Merry holidays.”

 

They get ready to shuffle out of the shop, and Liam feels a hand on the small of his back. He looks over to find Anton standing there. “I’m excited about our date,” he says, giving Liam’s hip a small squeeze.

 

“Me too,” Liam answers honestly. “I better wrangle them home, but I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

 

“Sounds good. Merry Christmas!” 

 

**December 24**

 

It’s his birthday, and Louis has spent the last seven minutes of it on a FaceTime call with Liam, Harry, and Niall, the last two tripping over themselves to tell Louis about Anton asking Liam out for dinner and possibly fun. 

 

It’s worth the chaos to see how red Liam’s pixelated face gets, but Louis is kind of confused. “How did this happen, why were you at his shop?” he finally manages to ask. 

 

Niall and Liam freeze, and it looks like Harry starts trying to take his hoodie off, but he’s disappeared off the screen so it’s impossible to tell.

 

“Well, I thought about getting a new tattoo yesterday, so we all stopped by the shop,” Liam says, slowly. 

 

“Sweet, what did you get?” Louis asks. 

 

“Nothing, changed my mind.” He shrugs. “Anton tried to talk Niall into getting an industrial, though.” 

 

Louis cackles. “How’d that go?”

 

“Well, I don’t have a metal rod through my ear, so you tell me,” Niall says, crossing his arms. 

 

Louis hears Harry, but he still can’t see him. “Why aren’t you telling him -”

 

Liam cuts him off. “Sorry, Lou, my uh, mom’s calling me, gotta go. Happy birthday, see you soon!” 

 

And with that, the call ends abruptly. 

 

_ Huh _ . 

 

**December 27**

 

Two days after Christmas, Liam is in the kitchen, looking for vegetables to put in an omelette so he can counteract the amount of potatoes and cake his mom had sent him home with. Harry was out on a run or at a spin class, Liam hadn’t really heard.

 

Niall wanders in, heading straight for the coffee pot, yawning as he pours himself a mug. 

 

Coffee in hand, Niall sits at the table. “How do you think we’re doing with this plan, Payno?”

 

Liam sighs. “I really don’t know. I don’t  _ think _ Harry’s told him, because I haven’t had Louis screaming at me about it. But it’s not like we can monitor them all the time.”

 

“Yeah, you’re right about that. We need to just, get it over with, see what happens.”

 

“I do think it would be best if he saw the piercings for the first time in person. Like, Louis won’t just drop everything to come home if Harry sends a picture, you know?” 

 

“You could get him to cover you last minute for that New Year’s Eve gig. Give him just enough notice to meet me and Harry there, if we plan it right.”

 

Liam hums. “That...could work. I could be sick. Do you think they would do anything with you there?”

 

“Well, they’re not subtle, and they have to come home to the same place. So, maybe?”

 

“Kind of flimsy, but it’ll have to do.”

 

Niall scoffs. “Li, this whole plan has been flimsy, you know that, right?”

 

“Rude. But also, yeah. I know.” He lets out a slow breath. “We’ll go with this, and if it doesn’t work, oh well. We tried.”

 

“Okay, so. We won’t mention it to Harry until I call Louis that morning. I’ll tell him you’re sick, and that Harry and I can meet him there with clothes to change into. Hopefully he goes along with it. If he doesn’t, Harry will never have to know something was up.”

 

“Niall, do you think we know anyone at this party? I kind of want to see what happens, it’s stupid I don’t get to be there.”

 

Niall laughs. “Tough break for Mr. Matchmaker. I can check the booking.”

 

Liam throws his hands up. “If this works, I want the footage for blackmail! Or their wedding. Maybe both,” he adds, thoughtfully. 

 

Niall pulls his phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants and starts flipping through screens. 

 

Liam finds some tomatoes and spinach to add to the eggs, and pulls out a pan. “Want an omelette?”

 

“Yeah, sure. Oh! Okay, a friend from college might be at this party. I’ll ask her if she’ll be willing to film part of it for us. She asked me once if they were together, and then said they should be, so it shouldn’t be too hard.” 

 

The front door slams, and Niall shoves his phone back into his pocket and attempts to look nonchalant. 

 

“Hey, Harry,” Liam says when he walks into the kitchen, plopping himself in the chair next to Niall. “Do you want an omelette?”

 

“I would love an omelette. I need a vegetable in my life. That run sucked, I ate too many cookies this weekend.” He lays his head down on the table. “Niall, can you please hand me some coffee? I’m not sure my legs will work to get to the coffee pot.”

 

“Pathetic,” Niall mutters, pushing his chair back. “You’re lucky I need a refill. But I’m giving you the ugly mug.”

 

“S’fine, I actually kind of like it.”

 

“Of course you do.” 

 

**December 31**

 

He’s halfway through losing to both sets of twins in a game of Phase10 when his phone rings, Niall’s face flashing on the screen’s caller ID. 

 

“Hey Ni, what’s up?”

 

“I’ve got a huge favor to ask, have you started drinking yet?”

 

“It’s like, eleven in the morning, I’m with my family, and more importantly, I have  _ standards _ . Why?”  

 

He hears Niall sigh heavily down the line. “I really hate to ask, but. Liam is sick. Chills, fever, whole nine yards. Could you cover for him tonight? I know it’s late notice. We can meet you there with clothes so you can stay as late as possible with your family.” 

 

Louis rolls his eyes at the ceiling. “Do I really have a choice?”

 

“Not really, no. Sorry.”

 

“Fine. Text me the address and the starting time. I’ll meet you there. I’ll text you what I need for my hair before I hit the road.”

 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. We owe you.”

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be thinking of ways you can repay me on my drive home. I gotta go. Time to explain to my mom I have to leave home early to go take my clothes off for money. Lucky she’s understanding.”

 

“Tell Jay we all say hello and that she’s a saint. See you tonight, drive safe.”

 

“Will do. Bye.”

 

He places the phone in his pocket and turns to the four faces looking at him expectantly. 

 

“Okay ladies and gent! Finish kicking my ass at this game and put me out of my misery so we can make one last ice cream trip before I have to leave.” 

 

-

 

Rihanna’s  _ Skin _ is pounding through the speakers of the house when they walk in the door. It’s a New Year’s Eve bachelorette party, and the champagne has been flowing freely for a few hours before their 10pm arrival time. 

 

Louis ducks into the guest bathroom located right off the foyer to get ready, Niall having called ahead to explain the situation. He shimmies into the tight dark blue skinny jeans, rolling the cuffs to show off his ankles, and pulls on the black v-neck. 

 

He works some product through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead to highlight his cheekbones, slicking on some chapstick to cover his slightly chapped lips. He doesn’t bother with shoes as Harry and Niall have probably already lost theirs at this point. 

 

Leaving his bag under the sink, he exits the bathroom in time for the music to switch to Nelly’s  _ The Fix _ . The differences in their playlists depending on the clientele always amuses him. 

 

He heads down the hallway into the open concept living area, couches and armless chairs scattered around and an impromptu dance floor in the middle. 

There are probably fifteen women in attendance, all at different stages of drunk and wearing a variety of penis paraphernalia. 

 

Niall is with a blonde who is running a fingertip down his arm as he laughs at something she’s just said. He’s worn his glasses tonight. Louis suspects he’s trying for a number. He hopes it works out better for Niall than the Chad thing had for him. 

 

Harry is sitting on a couch, giggling, a woman on each side, one of them wearing a bride-to-be sash. Louis can see his dimples from across the room. 

 

He sways his hips to the beat while he scans the room, deciding to join a group of four women standing by a large window. 

 

“Hello, ladies,” he says with an easy smile. “Hope you’re all enjoying yourselves.” 

 

“I am now that you’ve arrived,” one of them says, immediately taking a sip of champagne. 

 

They’re going to be here for a while, so there’s no real rush for clothes to come off. He’ll give it a couple more songs and then lose the shirt. Honestly, they’re not very coordinated strippers, but people keep hiring them, so he supposes it works.  

 

He mingles for a few more minutes, then excuses himself. He notices Niall is still with the blonde, and heads in their direction. 

 

“Niall here doesn’t seem to be giving anyone else the chance to talk to you,” he says, adding himself to their conversation. 

 

She laughs. “That’s only a problem if I’m not okay with it, right?” She holds out a hand, adding, “Hi, I’m Jenni.” 

 

“I’m Louis, nice to meet you.” 

 

“And I’m Niall, the one you’re both ignoring.” 

 

Louis rolls his eyes. “I’ll be on my way, then.” He turns to Jenni. “Good luck with him. If he lets you try on his glasses, you’re in.” 

 

Before he can walk away, Ginuwine’s  _ Pony _ starts up. That’ll be Harry’s cue, then. He scans the room to see Harry stand from where he’s been sitting on the couch. Harry catches his eye, smirks, and slowly unbuttons his patterned floral shirt. He shrugs it off and tosses it over his shoulder toward the couch, never breaking eye contact with Louis. 

 

Louis can’t look away, and before he can stop himself he’s flicking his gaze down Harry’s torso, stopping short when the light glints off a nipple. Is that a... _ barbell _ ? He knows he’s not being subtle, can’t help it, has to see...there are two. Of  _ course _ Harry did them both. 

 

It starts to make sense. The weird story about Anton’s shop, Liam ending the call when Harry tried to take off his hoodie...he thinks they’ve been set up. Or, well. The Liam version of set up. 

 

He hopes he’s not misreading this situation as he darts his tongue out over his bottom lip, bites down, and arches a brow at Harry.  

 

Harry winks, dimple popping, and drops a hand to start working on his belt. 

 

Louis is about to stalk across the room when Niall hip checks him, situation and surroundings rushing back to him.  _ Fuck _ . 

 

“Keep it together, dude,” Niall murmurs. “We’re here for another hour and a half.” 

 

Louis opens his mouth, but Niall cuts him off. “If you’re about to ask if you can do stuff in the bathroom, the answer is no.”

 

Louis huffs. “ _ Fine _ .” 

 

He needs to be where he cannot see Harry looking like sin on two legs. At least he’s turned so Louis is looking at his back, but he’s also in the process of taking off his pants, so. The relief will be short-lived if he doesn’t move. 

 

Scanning the room, he sees a group of women far away from Harry and heads their way. He wishes he could be drinking champagne. And maybe taking Harry home. No, definitely taking Harry home. He shakes his head and tries to get his mind back in the game. 

 

He’s just reached the edge of the circle when he realizes he never took off his shirt, much less his pants, and Harry is over there in just tiny boxers. Time to catch up. 

 

Ariana’s  _ Touch It _ starts playing. Perfect. Harry isn’t the only one with songs he makes work for him.

 

“Hey there,” he says, drawing attention to himself. “I’m a little behind my friends, does anyone mind if I,” he toys with the hem of his shirt, “lose this?”

 

The women all shake their heads, and one of them offers to help him. 

 

“Why not?” He holds his arms up, and she pulls the shirt over his head, letting it fall to the ground. 

 

“I hope I didn’t mess up your hair,” she giggles, reaching a hand up. “May I?”

 

“Only if you tell me your name first.”

 

“It’s Janice.”

 

“Janice, it would be a pleasure if you fixed my hair for me.”

 

She pushes back the few strands that have fallen onto his forehead. 

 

He smiles at her. “Thanks, love.” 

 

He chances a glance over his shoulder and sees Harry staring at him, eyes narrowed. He smirks and turns back around. 

 

The next hour passes in an escalating game of in-public flirting. 

 

Jack & Jack’s  _ Beg  _ is how Louis discovers that Harry has learned how to twerk. 

 

Harry watches, gaping, as Louis straddles the bride-to-be on a chair, arching back until his fingertips are grazing the floor. He then uses only his abs to resume an upright position, adding a hip circle at the end for good measure, all to The Weeknd’s  _ Rockin’ _ . 

 

3OH!3’s  _ Touchin On My  _ starts and Louis knows he’s in trouble. He stares, frozen, as Harry takes up residence in the middle of the dance floor. He’s been down to his tight black boxers for a while, but it feels as if they’ve gotten even smaller. 

 

Louis watches as Harry starts with a hip swivel that suddenly turns into his ass almost on the ground, feet planted firmly, one arm out to his side, the other tucked behind his head to show off those damn piercings. 

 

His mouth is dry, and Harry has just gotten started. He’s standing again, but is running his hands down his torso, pausing long enough for a crotch grab and a smirk. Most of the women are now circled around the floor, but they’ve left a gap he can still see through. 

 

_ Don’t get hard _ is running on a constant loop through his mind, and he misses Niall appearing at his side. 

 

“Close your mouth, man,” Niall hisses, and he jumps. “You two are out of control.” 

 

“I,” Louis wants to protest, but knows it’s pointless. “Yeah. You’re right. When can we leave?”

 

“You can leave with that,” he gestures to Harry, “when he finishes whatever this is and we do  _ Bye Bye Bye _ . I can’t have you two fucking in public.” 

 

“Okay, yeah.” He blows out a breath. “Okay. Thanks, Ni.”

 

He doesn’t hear Niall’s reply, because suddenly Harry is on his knees, arms in the air, and on the last beat of the song he pulls his elbows down and leans back, almost flat on the floor, water spewing out of his mouth like a fountain. Cheers erupt, and Harry stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, popping his hip out, and locking eyes with Louis. 

 

“Fuck. Louis, just get him out of here. I’ll deal with it.”

 

Louis doesn’t answer, just turns and heads toward the bathroom his stuff is in, hoping Harry is following him. 

 

He quickly puts on his jeans and hoodie and is slipping on his second shoe when he hears the door shut and the lock click. He turns around to see Harry up against the door, chest heaving. He’s acquired some clothes since the scene on the dancefloor. 

 

Without thinking, Louis stalks the two steps toward him, pressing into his space, his rapidly hardening dick pressed against Harry’s leg, leaning up to whisper in his ear. “I’m not fucking you in this bathroom.” Harry whimpers and he pushes a thigh between Harry’s legs. “Let’s go home.” 

 

He steps back, and motions for Harry to unlock the door so they can leave. Harry’s hand shakes a little bit, and then they’re out the front door and in the car, doors slamming, and they crash together over the console, lips joining instantly. 

 

Louis licks across the seam of Harry’s mouth and Harry groans, opening his mouth. 

 

“God, Lou,” he breaks off to pant. “Can’t believe we’re doing this.”

 

“Gotta get us home,” Louis mutters. “Put on your seatbelt.” He looks over his shoulder and throws the car in reverse, backing out of the driveway. “I hope Liam isn’t too sick to be woken up.”

 

Harry giggles. “I don’t think Liam’s sick, actually.”

 

Louis chances a glance away from the road to look at him. “What? Of course he’s sick, that’s why I’m here.”

 

“Nah. Heard him and Niall in the kitchen the other day. They’d been acting weird, so I maybe came home very quietly from my run to try and eavesdrop. I did the ‘door slam clearly I’ve just arrived move.’ They tried to set us up.”

 

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

 

“I’m not! Liam thinks he coerced me into getting my nipples pierced. Niall tried to help him. Really I’ve wanted it done for a while anyway, so I went along with it. Bonus that you’re apparently so into it.” He smirks at Louis. 

 

Louis shakes his head as he puts the blinker on to merge. “Those absolute bastards.”

 

Harry snakes a hand up Louis’ thigh, stroking lightly across his rapidly hardening dick. “We’ll deal with them later. How far away from home are we?”

 

Louis groans. “About ten minutes.”

 

“Perfect.”

 

With that, Harry leans over and licks his neck while pulling down his zipper, his finger dragging over him, only a thin layer of underwear between Harry and his dick. 

 

“What are you doing?” he chokes out.

 

“Wanna blow you, is that a problem?”

 

“No, just. Be careful down there.”

 

Harry doesn’t answer, just pulls down his underwear enough to let his dick pop free, and immediately tries to swallow Louis down. 

 

“Christ, Harry. Feels so good.”

 

Harry hums, and starts to slide up and down his shaft, hand working in tandem. 

 

Louis tries to work a hand into his hair, and Harry pulls off to tut at him. “Safety first, Lou. Hands on the wheel please.”

 

Harry swallows him back down and Louis tightens his grip on the wheel. They’re almost home. 

 

“Harry.”

 

He doesn’t pull off, just hums. 

 

“Gotta stop, m’gonna come.”

 

Harry stops long enough to ask, “Do you think you can go again?”

 

Louis moans and his hips buck up slightly, seeking friction. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

 

Harry is back on him instantly, dick bumping the back of his throat, Harry swallowing around it. 

 

“Fuck, Harry, m’gonna,” and before he can stop, he’s shooting down Harry’s throat, Harry swallowing it all, and he almost misses the turn into their neighborhood, fighting the urge to pull the car over right there and fuck Harry in the backseat. 

 

Harry gives him a final lick up the shaft and sits back in his seat, palming himself through his jeans, moaning. 

 

“Don’t you  _ dare _ come, we’re almost there.”

 

Harry laughs darkly. “That’s unfair, don’t you think?”

 

“Doesn’t matter, we’re home.” Louis swings into the driveway, throwing the car in park, and pulls up his pants enough to get in the house. “Come on.”

 

They trip over each other trying to get in the door, Harry backing Louis up against it once they’re inside, capturing his mouth in a heated kiss. 

 

He registers the television and breaks the kiss to turn his head long enough to register Liam and Anton on the couch, Liam’s arm around him. 

 

“Nice to see you’ve made a quick recovery, Liam,” he says, Harry bursting into giggles. 

 

“Uh,” Liam stammers. “Anton brought me soup! Because I’m sick!” He fakes a cough.

 

Anton at least has the decency to look confused, and Louis decides to spare him. 

 

“Good to see you, Anton. Liam has been scheming, maybe he’ll tell you about it.”

 

“Maybe we’ll see you in the morning,” Harry says, taking Louis’ hand. “We have to, um, go now. Bye!”

 

Louis is heading for his room, but Harry pulls him into his. “I washed the sheets a couple of days ago,” he explains, closing and locking the door, standing next to it, looking unsure for the first time all night. 

 

Louis sits on the bed and pats the spot next to him. Harry moves to sit next to him. 

 

“Harry,” he starts. “Are you okay with this?”

 

He laughs. “More than okay. I’m worried you’re not, though? Kind of got sprung on you.”

 

“Harry, I probably would have fucked you on the dance floor if you and Niall would have let me. I’m here, I’m caught up, I’m in it.”

 

Harry doesn’t answer, just climbs into his lap, capturing him in a rough kiss, tongues moving against one another, hips grinding slowly. 

 

Louis feels himself start to harden again. “You’re gonna be the death of me, wanted you for so long.” 

 

Harry whines and deepens the kiss, chests pressed together, and Louis thinks he can feel the barbells. “Oh, shit,” he says pulling back quickly. “Am I hurting you?” he asks, motioning toward Harry’s nipples. 

 

“Um, no. They haven’t been too bad. You just can’t, um, lick them,” he says, blushing. 

 

Louis snorts. “Noted. I’ll be careful.” He runs his hands up Harry’s side, rucking up his shirt, fingertips tracing across the soft skin as they kiss. 

 

“Fuck me, Lou,” Harry whispers.

 

“Okay, okay. I got you.”

 

Harry climbs off his lap, pulling his shirt off for the second time that night. He scoots back on the bed until his head is propped on a pillow near the top. 

 

Louis pulls his hoodie off and follows, unable to resist licking the butterfly on Harry’s stomach. He trails his tongue lower, tracing the top of Harry’s waistband. Harry lifts his hips up and starts trying to work his pants off.

 

“What if I want to take my time?” Louis asks, sitting back on his heels. 

 

“Too bad. You can take your time on round two.”

 

“Bossy.”

 

“Not typically, but I want to get fucked,” Harry says, shucking his pants and underwear off in one go. “It was torture seeing that woman fix your hair. Of all things, that one did me in the most.”

 

Any retort dies on Louis’ lips when he sees Harry’s dick, hard and flushed, precome already beading at the tip. 

 

He leans down and licks from base to tip, tongue swirling around the head, reveling in the moan Harry lets out. 

 

He’s just working his way down Harry’s shaft when he’s startled by music that’s come out of nowhere. 

 

They both look over to see a phone slipped halfway under the door, playing Marvin Gaye’s  _ Let’s Get It On _ at full blast. 

 

“Liam!” he yells. “We are not in need of your assistance!” 

 

“Just trying to help, Lou!”

 

The laughter from the hallway is too much. “Either start the Partition playlist or fuck off, Li,” Louis calls. 

 

The sound stops abruptly. “Fine. Carry on.”

 

“We will,” Harry shouts. “Good luck on possible fun with Anton!” 

 

“Idiots,” Louis mutters.

 

“Yeah, but they’re well-meaning idiots. Now can you please fuck me?” Harry bats his lashes. 

 

“You’re so impatient, god,” Louis says, hand working over Harry’s dick.

 

“Only one of us got off in the car. Chop chop. Been waiting for this.”

 

“You really know how to woo a man, don’t you?”

 

“I got my nipples pierced, I’ve done enough for this encounter. Shit’s in the nightstand drawer.”

 

Louis leans over to rummage, locating an almost-full bottle of lube and a condom and tossing them on the bed. 

 

“Lou.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Can you take your pants off? I’m the only naked one, s’awkward.”

 

“Ha. Yeah.” He stands up long enough to shimmy out of his jeans and underwear. “I’m leaving my socks on, though. It’s winter. It’s cold.” Harry snorts, and he gets back on the bed, settling in between Harry’s legs.

 

He finds the lube and squirts some out on a finger, petting lightly over Harry’s hole, taking in the whimper Harry sighs out before pressing in slowly. 

 

He rocks his finger in and out slowly, and Harry’s eyes flutter shut. 

 

“Gimme another, Lou,” Harry breathes, and he tucks a second finger in alongside the first, easing in to the second knuckle, and Harry starts meeting his shallow thrusts.

 

Louis runs his free hand up the inside of Harry’s thigh, pinching lightly when he reaches the sensitive skin at the top. Harry moans and bucks his hips, taking Louis’ two fingers in deeper. Louis hums. “Is that something to explore?”

 

“Fuck, maybe. C’mon, want you in me.”

 

Louis ignores him, and pulls his fingers out to add more lube, not missing the way Harry’s hand is clenched into the sheets at his side. He screws three fingers in, finding Harry’s prostate, and wraps his other hand around Harry’s dick, slowly working up and down.

 

“Goddamn it, Lou, are you trying to kill me?” Harry grits out, planting his feet and using the leverage to meet Louis’ thrusts. “M’gonna come before you even get inside, fuck.”

 

Louis tightens his grip around the base of Harry’s dick, unable to resist rubbing a few circles directly over his prostate before removing both hands at the same time, wiping the excess lube on the sheet. He reaches for the condom, rips the packet open, and rolls it on. 

 

“You’re so impatient,” he says, settling in between Harry’s legs again, pressing forward until he’s just touching Harry’s opening. 

 

Harry narrows his eyes at him. “Fuck you.”

 

Louis takes that as his cue, pushing in slowly until he’s settled flush with Harry’s ass. “That’s the plan,” he winks, pulling out halfway. 

 

Harry throws an arm over his eyes, and Louis takes that as his cue to pick up his pace, pushing in and immediately pulling out almost all the way. 

 

“Harry,” he says. Harry hums. “I want to touch them,” he nods toward the piercings before he realizes Harry can’t see him. “But I don’t know if I can.”

 

Harry moves his arm. “Um, your hands are kind of dirty,” he winces. “Sorry, that’s not sexy. But, uh, I think I could probably touch them on your behalf? They don’t really hurt.”

 

“Yeah,” Louis breathes. “Yeah, do that.” 

 

Harry lightly rubs a fingertip over each one, breath hitching slightly. “Fuck, it feels even better than I thought it would.”

 

Louis changes his angle slightly, satisfied when he hears Harry groan, letting him know he’s located his spot. He tries to wrap his hand around Harry’s dick, but his hand is batted away. 

 

“I’m already close,” Harry whines. 

 

“Me too,” Louis says, getting his hand around Harry. “It’s okay. You are so hot. My god.”

 

Harry is meeting his every thrust, still lightly rubbing his nipples, breath coming out in short pants, eyes closed. 

 

“Harry, look at me.” 

 

He blinks his eyes open.

 

“Wanna see you when you come,” Louis grits out.

 

That’s all it takes for Harry to fall over the edge. He throws his head back and cries out, coming over Louis’ hand and onto his stomach, Louis working him through it, letting his hand fall away when Harry stops fucking into his fist. 

 

He starts to pull out, but Harry hooks an ankle around his back. “Don’t you dare,” he growls. “I’m fine.”

 

Louis groans and grips the tops of Harry’s thighs, pushing back in. “M’so close, you feel so good.” 

 

Harry leans up to trace around Louis’ balls, gently dragging a finger up his perineum and that’s it, he’s coming in the condom, riding out his orgasm in short thrusts, moaning deeply. 

 

He pulls out and ties off the condom. “Do you have any tissues? Need to clean you up.”

 

“Nightstand drawer again.”

 

He wipes Harry down, disposes of everything in the wastebasket next to the bed, and then collapses - carefully - onto Harry. 

 

“Happy New Year,” he says, turning his head to see Harry’s face, and Harry giggles. 

 

“You’re ridiculous.”

 

“I didn’t get my nipples pierced to try and get laid, I’m not sure  _ I’m _ the ridiculous one here,” he says, gently poking Harry’s side so he knows he’s kidding. 

 

“Whatever, it worked.” 

 

They lay in silence for a few minutes. 

 

“So,” Louis starts. “Are we really doing this?”

 

Harry snorts. “Thought we just did.”

 

“You know what I mean,” he mumbles.

 

Harry rubs both hands down his back. “I know. I think we should. I think it’s time.”

 

Louis leans up to kiss Harry, their lips meeting softly, all hurriedness gone. 

 

“I agree.” He sits up, straddling Harry. “Do you think Niall is home yet? We’ve got that one thing I don’t think they know about,” he says, tracing a fingertip along the left laurel. 

 

Harry shivers. “Dunno. He was with that one girl pretty much all night. I’d say we would need to talk to him about client happiness, but. We weren’t exactly demonstrating model behavior.”

 

“Well, one way to find out.” Louis gets off the bed, and reaches for where his hoodie is laying on the floor. “Hey, can I borrow some pants? I don’t want to put jeans back on.”

 

“Sure, they’re in that drawer,” Harry says, pointing.

 

A few minutes later, they’re dressed and ready to face the house. Louis reaches out to take Harry’s hand in his. 

 

“Hey,” he says, softly. Harry looks at him. “I’m really happy. Just. Wanted you to know that.”

 

Harry grins. “Me too, Lou.” He squares his shoulders. “Ready?”

 

“Ready.”

 

He opens Harry’s door, and Louis thinks he can hear  _ Pony  _ playing. That’s odd. 

 

They both stop short when they enter the living room. 

 

There, on the television screen, is what appears to be video footage of the party from earlier. The camera is focused on Louis’ face, his mouth hanging wide open, and then the shot pans to Harry, who clearly has just removed his shirt. 

 

_ Oh god _ . 

 

Niall’s cackle distracts him first. 

 

“You  _ filmed us _ ?!” he screeches, dropping Harry’s hand to turn and face Niall, who is the epitome of casual on the couch, Jenni sitting on his lap. She waves. 

 

“You’ll want to see this part,” she says, motioning toward the screen.

 

Louis looks back just in time to see on-screen Harry wink at him. 

 

“Harry,” Liam chimes in. “I have a question.”

 

Harry has been rooted to the same spot since they walked in but turns toward Liam, who is standing in the doorway to the kitchen. 

 

“What’s that,” Harry asks, dumbly. 

 

“Did he wink back?” 

 

“Uh, yeah. Actually, he did,” Harry answers, blushing slightly. 

 

“Is that on the video?” Niall asks. 

 

“Not unless you filmed us fucking, Ni,” Louis says in what he hopes is a casual tone. 

 

Anton ducks under Liam’s arm from where he’s been in the kitchen. 

 

“How many people are in our house right now?” Harry yelps.

Anton ignores him and points at Louis. “Please tell me you didn’t lick the piercings.” 

 

“I did not! Didn’t even touch them with lube,” he answers, proudly, holding up both hands. “Took some restraint, though, they’re very hot. Guess I should thank you.”

 

“Well, that might be too much information,” Liam murmurs. 

 

“Says the person who thought he was being so slick setting us up in the first place,” Harry retorts. “You can stand to hear about lube.”

 

Liam looks at Niall and then back at Harry and Louis. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, crossing his arms. 

 

Harry scoffs. “Let’s talk about your quick recovery, then. New Year’s miracle!”

 

At that he has the decency to look somewhat ashamed. “Well. Maybe there was  _ some _ meddling.” 

 

“I helped!” Niall announces from the couch. 

 

“Thank you, Niall. We’re indebted to you both.” He looks at Harry and takes a deep breath. “It was definitely better the second time around.”

 

Niall stares at him. “What did you just say?” 

 

“Yeah, we, uh, hooked up senior year of college,” Harry says, rubbing the back of his neck. “But we were all moving in together and didn’t want it to be weird, so.” He shrugs. “We just let it go.”

 

“You  _ what _ ?!” Niall exclaims, standing so suddenly he dumps Jenni on the ground, knocking the glasses she had been wearing off in the process. He throws his arms in the air and turns his head so quickly toward Harry that Louis is worried he may have just given himself spinal damage. He finally realizes that Jenni is on the floor, and bends over to help her up, still looking shocked.

 

Liam has sat himself in the threshold of the doorway to the kitchen, looking back and forth between Harry and Louis, shaking his head. “I can’t believe this,” he says, quietly. 

 

Harry pats him on the back. “It’s okay, Li. Thought that counts and all.” Harry climbs over him into the kitchen and reappears a minute later holding an open bottle of champagne. “Found this in the fridge. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I could use a drink.”

 

He turns up the bottle and takes a sip, then hands it to Liam, who does the same. 

 

They pass the bottle around until it’s empty, and Louis realizes the same video is still playing on a loop. 

 

“Can we  _ please _ turn this off,” he asks. 

 

“Sure,” Jenni says. “If I get to see the infamous  _ Bye Bye Bye  _ performance. I was jilted out of it tonight, thanks to you two.” She wags a finger at them. 

 

They push the furniture aside and do as she asks, then do it a second time, attempting to teach her and Anton the choreography, Liam thriving in his role of tipsy tutor. 

 

There are worse ways to start a new year.

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first fic I ever started, and the fifth one to be finished. Can't believe I finally did it.
> 
> E and Sara, best betas and cheerleaders I could have had. 
> 
> Tea and Amanda, my best cheerleaders and threateners, and always the right thing at the right time. 
> 
> Anitra who made me the BEST moodboard.
> 
> To everyone else who threatened to kick my ass if I didn't finish this, or encouraged me, thank you. I hope it was worth waiting for.
> 
> If you'd like, here's the [post](http://softgolfdaddy.tumblr.com/post/169128288776/strip-that-down-by-domeaspreadsheet-does-this) to reblog! Come say hello!


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